Scared, Scarecrow?
by Roselle Greywood
Summary: Dr. Crane is captured and arrested, sent off to an asylum prison to receive some of his own medicine... Rated M for violence and some drug use.
1. Chapter One

Scared, Scarecrow?

**BLURB**: - Set after Batman Begins. Jonathon Crane has been arrested finally for his crimes upon the people of Gotham. Batman has ordered him to be taken to the mad prison. What Wayne doesn't know is that Crane's going to receive some of his own medicine. NOTHING to do with the Joker in this. Because I can't be bothered. xD

**SHORT BLURB**: - Dr. Crane is captured and arrested, sent off to an asylum prison to receive some of his own medicine… Nolanverse

**DISCLAIMER**: - I do not own the Batman Universe, or Dr. Crane (;-;) or Cillian Murphy DX

**NOTE**: - Beautifully re-written ;D (or just edited in some cases).

**RATING**: - M for madness… :D and violence, drug use, swearing and some sexual themes. (Now you know your ABC :D)

* * *

_Chapter One_

The blaring of the police car sirens in Jonathon Crane's ears made him drop his dark, stern-faced gaze from Wayne. He felt man's victorious smirk looking down at his lowered head.

"He's dangerous… too dangerous to be wandering around at night in Gotham, especially as it's just been saved. I'm surprised he's not gone immediately mad from the effects of that toxin, actually – he'd inhaled a lot from the city air before capture," Wayne explained, his hands residing in his suit pockets; hiding from the cold of the late autumn night.

He turned around as someone smaller than him tapped his shoulder. Bruce smiled widely at the man, who clutched a clipboard underneath one arm, dressed in a stark white lab coat and smelled freshly of disinfectant. This made Wayne wrinkle his nose awkwardly. The odour reminded him of all the patch-ups Alfred had given him after his midnight escapades.

"Hello, honour to meet your acquaintance… might you be _the_ Bruce Wayne, of Wayne Enterprises?" his eyes were wide with awe as he looked up at the taller man.

He chuckled and smiled again. "Yeah – that's me. And you must be…?"

Vincent scowled – did this big cheese truly not know who he was? "Dr. Vincent Simone, head of Sillforth Asylum. It's… relatively less well-known than Arkham was."

Bruce chose to ignore the aristocratic self-introduction. He thought he was giving Simone a confidence boost by allowing him to introduce himself to such a man, but instead he'd proved to himself that his previous knowledge of Vincent had been true. He was nothing more than a snotty, stuck-up Professor, who was obsessed with his work and had no trace of decent social skills.

"I see you're the one who caught this little chap?" Simone gave Crane a rather disgusted look up and down. Crane did not move in the slightest, yet he knew he was being scrutinised underneath the strange gaze.

Bruce first shot a hard stare at Simone, before smiling, his gaze softening. "It wasn't me… Batman got him – the 'Caped Crusader', you know? Surely you've read the articles… heard rumours…?" his eyes were now questioning the Doctor, almost _challenging_ him.

Simone nodded. "Of course… of course. How silly of me, to forget our 'dark guardians' place here in our society." He placed a cold hand underneath Crane's chin, jerking it upwards and unsettling the soft lank hair. Wayne could see how he itched to push it back into place behind his ears, but his arms were already being screwed painfully behind his back by two police officers. "And now thanks to the mysterious masked man, we have one less criminal to worry about."

Bruce could see the slight shame the Doctor had for forgetting Batman. But he didn't _actually_ know _just_ how right he had been… Wayne had, at first, assumed he knew his secret identity – this man was an entirely different mystery to Batman, and the billionaire didn't know how much Simone knew. Bruce shunned the thought from his mind and looked intently back upon their capture. How could such a clever man turn so _mad_?

He took to his heels, following Dr. Simone as he had vaguely heard him saying something about getting a cell arranged for his newest client. He was also distantly aware that the pair of policemen was also following them, hauling Crane along unceremoniously between them towards the van that the Doctor had arrived in.

The five of them climbed into the vehicle, the Doctor in the front passenger seat with one of the officers behind the wheel, while the remaining policeman shoved some handcuffs onto Crane's thin wrists. They pushed him into the back seat of the white rusty van, settled between the officer and Wayne.

The car journey took around an hour and ten minutes, for Sillforth mental prison was situated in the suburbs of Gotham. To Bruce, the voyage seemed to drag on forever.

In that time he sensed Crane's unease around all these important officials. Wayne caught him looking around once or twice, as if trying to find comfort somewhere in the rusty white van. In that small moment, Wayne craved to utter a few reassuring words to ease the tense shoulders, whisper to him that he'd be all right. But being realistic, Bruce knew that _he_ had called for Dr. Simone to come and take Jonathon away for therapy; for his own well-being. So he held back this urge and sat tight. It was _him_ who had condemned the other man to this fate, so it wouldn't be wise to go back on his decision.

But already he was beginning to regret phoning the Doctor. It had not been Bruce who had mercilessly thrown a net on Crane, or kicked him till purple bruises welled up along his ribs. It had been Batman. Even so, Wayne was wholly responsible for what the Dark Knight did, but he wanted to forget what he had done. He tried to distance himself from the alter ego pacing in his head. Bruce had distracted himself by looking out of the van window at the passing scenery; grey, depressive buildings and homeless people with hang-dog expressions.

As they walked from the van and towards the stony-grey building, Bruce noticed Crane grow additionally apprehensive than before; perhaps the toxin still hadn't _quite_ worn off.

Sighing, Wayne shook his head sympathetically. He just wished he knew how much this 'Scarecrow' had taken over Crane's life, and how much the toxin was going to affect what was left of the renowned Doctor inside.

The billionaire prompted himself – _it's all for the his own good… its all for his own good… _Bruce walked a little further from Jonathon in a small attempt to offer comfort to him. He didn't look like he wanted to be surrounded by tall, imposing men.

The officers grabbed Crane again as they entered the bright building.

"Ah, now this will do nicely. Yes - that's it! Just leave him in there and you can leave." The policemen both nodded at Vincent simultaneously and left through the elevator.

"Bruce, I suggest you come back soon to see how he's doing. Could you sign the documents as his… er, well…"

Bruce nodded, wondering how the Doctor _really_ was if he was forgetting this simple word. "I'd be glad to," smiling, he took the clipboard (which seemed to follow Simone everywhere) and signed on the appropriate lines. He left the building too quickly.

Simone smiled cruelly at Wayne's receding back. "Now for the toxin testing…" he walked quietly into the small cell room, carrying a can of Crane's hallucinogen. He shook it vigorously, pushed down upon the sprayer, and before Jonathon turned around the Doctor was out of the door, watching Crane become terrified of everything and anything.

"Time you started taking your _own_ medicine, Crane…"


	2. Chapter Two

**BLURB: -** Set after Batman Begins. Jonathon Crane has been arrested finally for his crimes upon the people of Gotham. Batman has ordered him to be taken to the mad prison. What Wayne doesn't know is that Crane's going to receive some of his own medicine.

**SHORT BLURB: -** Dr. Crane is captured and arrested, sent off to an asylum prison to receive some of his own medicine…

**DISCLAIMER: -** I do not own the Batman Universe, or Dr. Crane (;-;) or Cillian Murphy DX

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: -** This chapter is a little boring, but it's some Rachel/Bruce action for ya ;) thought you might enjoy a bit of it, since I'm trying to keep this fanfiction open to all pairings. It's also a bit short. I'm trying to flesh these chapters out, but this one is a little boring as I've said so maybe you just all want it over and done. (:

* * *

_Chapter Two_

_Two days later…_

Wayne sat thoughtfully at his desk, sifting through various documents and unpaid bills that had been forgotten about. Slowly they had fallen underneath everything else upon his work desk.

Sharp knocks at the door made him flinch ever so slightly, bringing him out of his reverie. He called for the visitor to enter and reached for his mug of now lukewarm coffee.

Bruce half-smiled and nodded as Rachel Dawes entered through the oak door. She came to stand in front of the desk.

"Please, sit?" Bruce offered. She declined, remaining stood with a stiff posture. Rachel shifted her weight onto her hip.

Wayne leant back in his own chair, away from the paperwork. He looked intently at the woman sitting opposite him.

"I heard you caught him?" a nod answered her question.

"Yeah I did." Bruce said slowly, getting up and standing in front of the window, his back to the glass.

"And where did you send him?"

"Sillforth."

She gave him a puzzled look and put her head to one side, a hand gesturing for him to indulge more information.

"The mad prison?" Bruce sighed as she continued to appear lost in the labyrinth of their conversation.

"Never mind – everyone is happy just as long as he's out of the way and under control." he gave a small sigh after his words.

"What did the police have to say about it?"

Wayne shrugged and turned back to look at the buildings outside, silhouetted against the fiery evening sky.

"Rachel… it's like they're dead, or walking corpses. I swear Batman is the only one actually doing anything for the good of the Gotham."

She sent him a knowing smile. What followed was a silence of about twenty minutes, in which the both of them understood each other completely. Rachel must have been thinking about something else too, because she then asked the following: -

"And what about the head doctor of Sillforth? Is he doing good for the city or do we have another Crane case on our hands?" Wayne merely shrugged again. He deflected her every question, because even though he knew she did not have knowledge of Sillforth, he was somehow expecting her to be able to answer the 'silly' questions her self.

"I suppose if he took Crane in from us then he must be trying to do something for us."

She stared at him. "Taking Jonathon off our minds could be just his way of defeating an extra rival who proved an obstacle in the course of his further plans!"

Bruce was quiet. How was it that he had overlooked _that _small probability? After all, the police could be under the control and commandment of Doctor Simone, perhaps even being paid massive sums of money to be kept quiet… the officers the other night had seemed awfully withdrawn and quiet. He frowned, his brow creasing and his eyebrows knitting together in a deep well of thought. Was this something for him to investigate?

Possibly…

_Definitely._

He walked over to Rachel and placed his hands on her upper arms.

"I'll see you again on Thursday, okay?" Exchanging a small kiss he watched her leave and sat down again at his desk, staring at his stone-cold coffee.

Bruce sighed. Batman's duties were endless.


	3. Chapter Three

**BLURB: -** Set after Batman Begins. Jonathon Crane has been arrested finally for his crimes upon the people of Gotham. Batman has ordered him to be taken to the mad prison. What Wayne doesn't know is that Crane's going to receive some of his own medicine.

**SHORT BLURB: -** Dr. Crane is captured and arrested, sent off to an asylum prison to receive some of his own medicine…

**DISCLAIMER: -** I do not own the Batman Universe, or Dr. Crane (;-;) or Cillian Murphy DX

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: -** This chapter gives you more Crane action. Yay. :D

* * *

_Chapter Three_

Walking down the narrow corridor, her small heels clicked on the black & white tiled linoleum. Her indigo officer uniform swung tightly around her legs. Her arms were stretched out in front of her torso, each hand looped through the handles of a wooden tray. It was laden with food on for the selected patients she had been assigned to attend to. Her whole impression was completed by a white smile and a small cap upon her chestnut hair. Her name badge was clipped to the front of her uniform – Susan Jenkins.

Turning round so that she could push a door open with her back, she jerked her head slightly towards the door. Her eyes were fixed upon Doctor Simone who rushed down the corridor from the opposite end, a bundle of swinging keys clasped in his sweating hands. He inserted one select key into the lock of the door, allowing Susan into the room of his newest patient – Crane. Vincent smirked sickly and closed the door with a satisfying click, turning the key in the lock again and spectating from the glass porthole in the padded door.

"How are we this morning, Mr. Crane?" she asked, her voice not as abominably singsong as it usually was with others she attended to. She decided firmly for herself that this patient was a nice gentleman; and was not dementedly incapable as many of the other clients within the asylum. Anyone could tell that Miss Jenkins was a little ditzy.

Her question was answered with a small soft grunt, and she noticed a slight stirring from the bed. Apparently the patient was sitting. She turned, and saw.

Good god. Was that really… was that Jonathon Crane? She had placed her mother in the care of him at Arkham. Surely… surely he was not… surely Dr. Simone must be mistaken.

She cleared her throat. Simone had instructed her quite sternly that she must not have fear evident within her thoughts, or her expression; it could give the cell occupant more power over her. It could also possibly lead to her death.

Susan presented the tray of food to Crane, taking his meal from it and setting it down upon the small desk by the cell bed. She then left through the door as the Doctor unlocked it. He smiled at her with a curt nodded. She returned these gestures and walked down the hallway to give the other mentally handicapped their late evening meal.

The next couple of hours passed without any hiccups; all the patients of Vincent Simone slept quietly. He escorted Susan to all her assigned cells to collect the empty bowls and untouched meals.

They approached Crane's chamber. Simone, like with her first visit, unlocked the door for her, and she went in. The bowls and cutlery already adorning her waitresses' tray clattered as she walked quietly over the threshold.

Susan bent down, picking up the plastic bowl and plate, the fork… where was the knife she was sure she had … oh yes. She wasn't allowed to give them knives. But… she was sure she had… but… surely she _shouldn't_ have…

Blood. Blood spilled out over the blue uniform, blossoming from the wound back created by the puncture of the knife stabbing unmercifully into her. Susan's face was contorted in a silent scream, features all twisted and out of place; the scene was grotesque, and horrifying. There stood the murderer, behind her, greasy strings of hair hanging down over his pale drawn face, the muscles tight and strained surrounding his dull eyes. They were not full of vitality and life, but instead a murderous manic glare, with a worn shine.

Simone sighed and shook his head with disbelief. One loss was not much, but of course one led to many. Although she was dead, the Doctor was not as concerned as he perhaps should have been. It was Crane's behaviour that he was more concerned about. Crane must be controlled, stopped. All of this would have to be done underneath a simple dose of drug to keep him stable. The drug acted like a guard. For now, Crane must be _interrogated_.

Crane looked up from the fallen body of the innocent woman, smiling madly and brandishing the knife at the Doctor. The man held his hands up, and nodded for the patient to drop the weapon. Crane did this, and then sat upon the bed, without a fuss or a disobedient action.

Doctor Simone sat on the other side of the room, his back straight against the frame of his chair. The clipboard rested along his arm. His other hand clutched a ballpoint, poised to begin jotting quick notes on the form.

"Jonathon."

Crane's head flitted up, his dark brooding eyes peeking through the curtains of unruly hair that fell around his pallid face. Unwashed; unkempt and unhealthy. His personal hygiene skills had not deteriorated from his madness, but his social skills had. He obviously hated being in new places. Doctor Simone made a short note about this.

"… what…?"

"Your childhood. This toxin. I've been told there might be a connection, and also something about a… 'Scarecrow'?" Crane visibly recoiled at the name, and this caused Vincent to nod and once again note something down hurriedly before moving onto the next question.

He repeated his first words. "Your childhood. Tell me _all_ about it, Jonathon,"

Crane sighed vaguely, and held his hands together in his lap fiddling with the hem of his asylum shirt. He considered intensely about certain things he would tell the Doctor. But then again, why should he not tell him the_ whole lot_? Perchance it could stop the man from persevering if he told him on the first appointment.

He nodded at Doctor Simone, and then cleared his throat. "…It really started when I first moved to the upper years of my first school… I was bullied, shunned, but none of this really mattered. I soon conjured up an imaginary friend of my own: Scarecrow. I don't know why he's called that, or really where that idea came from, but I know he's spawned from all the hatred and jealousy that I held for the other pupils, with their friends – and yes even they might have had enemies, but I had more, always more…

"There was just one girl, Helen, who held a certain… _pity_… for me. I paid her no heed, but secretly, secretly I knew I had a small crush on her. My feelings for others were overtly strong whenever they struck a friendship, or showed positive emotions towards me.

"Then, as I approached the end of my upper-school years before I moved off to College, I found a friend. Just one, but he was a friend. As I recall very soon after I'd made a bond between this boy, my Scarecrow began to rage in my mind, telling me that I didn't _need_ friends, that I should abandon this boy, _kill_ him even…

"So I did. Without a thought I did - in front of a crowd of a couple of pupils of my own age. Including Helen. I regretted it instantly. The whole incident though had been like I was possessed, looking through the eyes of a body that was uncontrollable. I was locked inside my own mind and couldn't command my body to do what _I_ wanted it to. I secretly knew it was right, because I'd vowed that Scarecrow would be my single companion, forever and always.

"That scared Helen off. From then on she wouldn't look at me, couldn't never walk past me without speeding up or almost tumbling over. Around me she was a nervous wreck; an isolated statue among her small group of close friends. Her eyes were always fearful when I was there.

"After that I moved upwards, towards a College. My parents still had a little faith still bestowed towards me - of course they were my _parents_ - apart from that they were reluctant to go anywhere near me, to_ talk_ to me, even to _touch _to me. They paid for my University fees, and then left me. I moved out within a couple of weeks, choosing to rent out a flat until I could buy a small house.

"At University, I wanted to study psychology - the study of the mind. I wanted to help those with certain dementias, to treat any individuals who had suffered the same sort of experiences as me - even anything worse - that had lead to their insanity.

"Those thoughts led to me wanting to recreate Scarecrow; I'd been with him all throughout my lonely life, when my parents weren't there, when I found myself alone in the corridors, in the dining hall, at the studying desks in the library. I wanted to repay him for all that, by making him real, _alive_…

"So I made the mask. It was simple, and not particularly frightening, though the Scarecrow was what had made _me_ terrifying to others. _That_ thought; _that_ spawned the toxin. The hallucinogen that when applied to the area around someone, would cause that person to fear me with the mask on. I had done it; payback time to all those who had caused me suffering throughout my childhood. I had truly become one with the Scarecrow, my imaginary friend that told me what was right to do, and what would be wrong and cause my downfall. He was just me, but stronger. He guided me."

Doctor Simone was silent. Had Crane just confessed all of his deepest, darkest secrets to him, Vincent Simone? The Doctor with a PhD? And how was it that this crazy bugger had earned his _own_ title of 'Dr'? Vincent shook his head with exasperation.

"Is this all true?"

Crane nodded. The Doctor stood up.

"Thankyou for your hour, Jonathon. It's been very worthwhile," Simone extended a slightly shaking hand towards the former Arkham manager. Crane shook it hesitantly, as though he was unsure about the Doctor's motives. Nevertheless, Vincent shot him a friendly reassuring smile and then left the room, closing the door and locking it firmly.

Vincent needed to talk with Wayne.


	4. Chapter Four

Scared, Scarecrow?

**BLURB**: - Set after Batman Begins. Jonathon Crane has been arrested finally for his crimes upon the people of Gotham. Batman has ordered him to be taken to the mad prison. What Wayne doesn't know is that Crane's going to receive some of his own medicine. NOTHING to do with the Joker in this. Because I can't be bothered. xD

**SHORT BLURB**: - Dr. Crane is captured and arrested, sent off to an asylum prison to receive some of his own medicine… Nolanverse

**DISCLAIMER**: - I do not own the Batman Universe, or Dr. Crane (;-;) or Cillian Murphy DX

**NOTE**: - You might want to start from the beginning of this fic now, if you're a first time reader you would have done that anyway, but if you're an old fan and you haven't re-read the first three chapters recently, I advise you to do that, because I've rewritten them (well, kind of. It's mostly editing).

Also, this might be kind of shitty. It's hard to concentrate sometimes when there is background noise. :(

* * *

_Chapter Four_

"Here's your breakfast, Master Wayne… oh and there was also a message for you this morning on the answer machine – a Doctor V. Simone would like you to swing by this afternoon. It's already half ten, so you had better get a move on Sir."

"… what… oh, thanks Alfred."

Bruce blinked a couple of times, un-blurring his eyes of the veil of sleep that had settled over them. He gobbled the breakfast Alfred had brought him – two bacon sandwiches with brown sauce, washed down with squeezed orange juice. He then washed, dressed and prepared his Lamborghini for a fast drive over to the suburbs of Gotham. Doctor Simone would probably expect him to be a few minutes late, but if that was the case then Bruce wanted to arrive in style (hence the flashy car chosen for his outing).

"Look after the mansion while I'm gone, Alfred."

"As usual, sir?"

"Yeah… could you make more of those sandwiches for when I get back?" Bruce tossed him a winning smile.

"Anything for you, Master Wayne." The aged butler gave him a nod, a single wave and turned to retire inside. The billionaire revved the engine and slammed his foot onto the acceleration, screeching off around the circular patch of grass at the front of the mansion and through the wrought iron gates.

* * *

"I'm sure you have a lot of valuable contacts, Bruce, so I wanted you here so I could ask if you could track down some people for me."

Wayne appeared puzzled, but nodded. "Who exactly do you want me to find?"

"It's just a few people – here, I have a list… - just anyone who knew Crane when he was at college. Any old acquaintances, study buddies, professors, classmates… you know the drill." Vincent handed him a piece of paper with some possible locations and the addresses. Nodding, Wayne clapped Simone on the back.

"Of course, as long as they will be able to add anything to your research. How far have you got with him?"

A mix of expressions passed over Simone's lined face. "It's… hard to tell. This is a difficult process; I'm sure you can appreciate that, Bruce. A guiding hand is a help, but time is the greatest healer. Give it a few months and I'm sure we will be able to reintroduce him to society. But it's better he stays here for now. So you will do this?"

"As soon as possible. I pretty much know Gotham inside out…" With a nod and an ironic smile, Bruce left, departing first for where Jonathon Crane used to live.

It turned out that the group of flats were derelict and disheveled; although there were still signs of life. The line of overflowing wheeled bins stood proudly like guards at the door; the few lights behind tatty drawn curtains. They all told Bruce to continue. The sun was beginning to set sending a watercolor of reds and golds across the clear sky. He parked up a few yards away and walked in his crisp suit up to the lobby door.

He pressed the intercom device and told the receptionist he was visiting a friend. Strangely, this excuse worked. Bruce didn't linger; this was not Batman's job, it was his. So he should stop thinking like Batman, and think like Bruce Wayne. There was not always a rival behind every corner, lurking in every shadow. His 'adventures' with Batman had set his mind into an almost paranoid state. Bruce shoved his hands into his pockets and strode through the door, waving and smiling at the receptionist as he passed her.

She was as disheveled and neglected as the flats she worked in. Her glasses were dusty – requiring a good clean – and their beaded string hung loosely around her neck. She must have been in her early forties, although she looked at least fifty-five. It was as though she was waiting for a hero to come and whisk her away from the dreary desk she sat at day in, day out. Well, that hero wouldn't be Bruce… unless…

"Excuse me," he began politely, "I was wondering if you had any records of the previous Crane family…?"

"I'll have to check the database." Her voice grated in his ear like nails down a chalkboard. Up close he could see her face was plastered with a multitude of cosmetics; cracked dry lips had been slathered with a dull brown in the hope of giving them some of their old plumpness. Her eyes were endorsed with a powdery blue eye shadow and her lashes caked with lumpy black mascara. The end result was not all that inviting.

"Yes, we have a Crane family."

"… _have_?"

"Yes, they live at number twenty-five on floor three." Bruce let out a relieved sigh that sounded like it had been trapped in there for some time.

"Thank you." He raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, until he came to floor three. The carpet up here was a faded red with small gray diamonds puncturing it now and then. In some patches it was sticky with an unknown substance, so he minded his footing while he inspected the doors along the corridor. Room twenty-three was, of course, at mid-point, and he rapped on the peeling paint with his middle knuckle.

He hadn't been expecting an answer, because he had stood there for at least two minutes before the door creaked open a slit. Through it Bruce could barely see an elderly lady and a barking Jack Russell terrier at her heels. She bade him in without question, tottering over to the television set which stood next to the fireplace. She switched it off and turned to look at him, standing gazing up at him.

"… Is this about the electricity bills?"

He wanted to laugh, but he suppressed it and smiled warmly instead. Bruce took a step forwards and placed a hand on her small shoulder. She was the size of a dwarf compared to him. "No, ma'am, my name is Bruce Karlson, and I've come to see you about your son." It was better that he concealed his true name from her – thankfully she lived in the suburbs, where his face was less common. His name was still as famous here as it was back in central Gotham though, and he wanted this confrontation to take as little time as possible. It would only complicate things if he had her flapping about around his ankles singing his praises.

"Oh! That failure left long ago. He doesn't live here anymore." She shook a hand in his direction and turned away, walking at the pace of a sloth towards the kitchen this time.

Bruce cleared his throat. "I know, we… have him at Sillforth Asylum."

She let out a bark of laughter, and sounded exactly like her dog. "HA! That's where he should have gone _years_ ago! Instead Dave and I just kicked him out, disowned him in fact…"

"And why was that?"

Her next answer came from the kitchen, partly drowned out by the sound of the boiling kettle. "Why did we want nothing to do with him? He's a madman, Mr. Karlson, incase you had not noticed. He just… changed."

"When did this happen?" Bruce kept the questions coming thick and fast, always ensuring they were the right ones.

"Oh… it must have been about the time he started secondary school. It was Arkham Secondary. Yes, I remember. He was never happy there. I don't think he fitted in too well. He had some issues with making friends. I know teenagers can be a bit anti-social sometimes but it was as though something was telling him to keep away from everyone else at school. I really don't know what got into him…"

She brought two cups of tea out into the front room, handing Bruce one. He politely declined, coupling the rejection with an excuse that he had to go soon (a previous engagement). She shrugged. "I'm sure Dave will want it, he'll be back here soon. Did you want me to tell him you'd been round?"

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd rather you didn't. But I'm sure that won't stop you from bringing it up in natural conversation," Giving her another homely smile Bruce turned towards the door, his hand poised on the handle. "Give him my regards."

She waved behind her to see him off as she was switching the television on again. Bruce decided that he didn't need to check out any of the other addresses; he had basically all the information he needed. The neighbors would no doubt either no longer live here, or would just claim 'he was always an odd boy; we never really saw much of him'. Instead, Bruce headed towards the library near Crane's old school. It was strange to know that the district where Arkham asylum had been was near where Crane had grown up. Perhaps that was what had influenced the boy's career.

He thought, as he drove up to it, that it was shut, but even at half past nine in the evening Arkham library remained open. Bruce trotted up the stairs, leaving his car in a parking lot nearby.

His first observations told him this much: that there was one librarian sorting shelves, and another sitting at the desk next to the door. He looked up from where he sat. "Hello, can I help you?" Wayne had expected a crabby spinster; instead he was greeted by an old-timer and his almost toothless smile.

"Yes, do you have records on your database from… say, fifteen years ago?"

"Ooh now, that's a hard one… but we _should_ do. Give me a minute." Instead of tapping into the computer, he wheeled his chair over to the shelves behind him, pulling out a few dusty brown binders. "Lets have a look then, what name are you looking for sonny?"

"Crane, Jonathon Crane."

"Ah, a regular! I remember that young lad. He used to come here all the time and just sit reading the books. Didn't take much out, mind, but he loved to sit here and… ah, here we go." He turned the binder towards Bruce. His eyes scanned the page for the name. It stood out among all the others like a sore thumb.

How to make your own carnival mask Halloween costumes A Study of the Human Mind Psychology and You

All of the books followed the same themes; either something to do with costumes, or masks, or how-to-do books, or things to do with the brain and how it worked psychologically. "Right, thanks for your time." Nodding at him in acknowledgement for his help, Bruce left the library. A thin drizzle met him as he stepped out of the library. Dashing to his car Bruce started up the engine and drove off, heading home.

He would present this information to Dr. Simone in the morning.


	5. Chapter Five

Scared, Scarecrow?

**BLURB**: - Set after Batman Begins. Jonathon Crane has been arrested finally for his crimes upon the people of Gotham. Batman has ordered him to be taken to the mad prison. What Wayne doesn't know is that Crane's going to receive some of his own medicine. NOTHING to do with the Joker in this. Because I can't be bothered. xD

**SHORT BLURB**: - Dr. Crane is captured and arrested, sent off to an asylum prison to receive some of his own medicine… Nolanverse

**DISCLAIMER**: - I do not own the Batman Universe, or Dr. Crane (;-;) or Cillian Murphy DX

**NOTE**: - Again, if you haven't gone back and read the previous chapters by now, please do so (they've been redone :P)

Enjoy this chapter, even though its short… Batman makes a proper entrance, rather than just being 'mentioned in passing' and also he makes quite a discovery :D And I know Arkham wasn't destroyed in Batman Begins, but well, I think some random people would have torn it down out of madness from that toxin. :D My logic is awesome. This is the night running on from the previous chapter, if anyone was wondering, so Bruce hasn't reported back to Simone yet. (:

Uhhhh, yes, well I know Wayne Manor got burnt down, BUT THEY REBUILT IT REALLY QUICKLY. :D Kay, he can be living in the Batcave. Why not??

(This is only a fic, but I know technical details like this are important to pay attention to. It seems a bit stupid that Arkham is all … blehhh not rebuilt, when Wayne Manor is. The answer to this little mishap? Bruce – has lots of money – can easily quickly rebuild the Manor because he can employ the best people and pay them to work overtime. (: Plus he can have a bigger workforce (he kind of needs it, lulz). That is the story for today.)

* * *

_Chapter Five_

Arkham Asylum was quiet. The workers had disbanded for the night. Scaffolding caged it. Tools lay about on the abandoned scaffolds; ladders had been folded up and taken home. The moon revealed her self from behind thin scudding clouds. She illuminated a solitary figure with her silvery caress. He stood, alone, on the edge of a nearby rooftop. Arkham's silhouette against the clear indigo night sky made it look skeletal and dead.

Altogether it wasn't an inviting backdrop to the Arkham district, so Batman wasn't afraid of running into any trouble down here tonight. He snapped his wings open, gliding gently onto a scaffold platform formed crudely out of metal poles and large pieces of scrap wood. He glanced around, double-checking for signs of life. You could never be _too_ sure.

He climbed his way up a pole until he could easily drop down into the main building – he had not seen any obvious way to gain entrance from the ground. His footsteps echoed. The Dark Knight kicked aside spare bricks and broken beams. The workers doing construction here hadn't cleaned it up very well…

There. Over there. What was … _that_? Was it exactly what he thought it was? If luck shined on him tonight as well as the moon, then it would be what he wanted it to be.

…

_Yes_!

Crane's scarecrow mask lay lifeless and dull underneath a small pile of rubble. It would not be easily noticeable on a normal day, but the light was just so at night that the moon filtered down through the glass panels in the roof and half-onto it. It glanced off the burlap mask, highlighting it with gentle silver. Batman smiled crudely. He hoped this wasn't some higher force controlling his life, because his luck today had proved to be the best he had had in a while.

He shifted the crumbled bricks with his foot, kicking them aside while he retrieved the mask. It was such a simple thing, not scary at all, but this was what had struck terror into so many hearts of Arkham's previous inmates. Paired up with the hallucinogenic gas, it was no surprise to Batman that now a lot of Gotham city's inhabitants feared an entity known only as 'Scarecrow'.

Such a simple thing, yet so terror-filled. He would take this back to Simone in the morning too, along with the information he had gained earlier from Crane's mother and the helpful librarian.

He would return home with this, and get a good night of sleep. He knew it was one thing he definitely always lacked. Batman smiled wryly, called the Batmobile and sped off back towards Wayne Manor.


	6. Chapter Six

Scared, Scarecrow?

**BLURB**: - Set after Batman Begins. Jonathon Crane has been arrested finally for his crimes upon the people of Gotham. Batman has ordered him to be taken to the mad prison. What Wayne doesn't know is that Crane's going to receive some of his own medicine. NOTHING to do with the Joker in this. Because I can't be bothered. xD

**SHORT BLURB**: - Dr. Crane is captured and arrested, sent off to an asylum prison to receive some of his own medicine… Nolanverse

**DISCLAIMER**: - I do not own the Batman Universe, or Dr. Crane (; ;) or Cillian Murphy DX

**NOTE**: - Um, yeah. This one has violence in it. Sorry for the last one being so short, but there wasn't much to write about it. :D - so much lack of Batman in this I know and I'm sorry – don't you just love the Dark Knight's soundtrack? It has very more defining themes than Batman Begins, although in TDK I felt there was … a distinct – lack – of music. Seems weird I know, but that car chase scene, urgh, that was awful, there was no background music. It was so quiet and eery D: Didn't like it with no pretty music.

Anywayyy, in this there is more Crane action (I know, I've starved you of him for –two- whole chapters! D: on noes/mouth/eyes!!) in fact it is mostly Crane and Simone in this. Also, there is a boring recap of the first two chapters at the beginning, in case you didn't bother to read them for some reason. Lmao.

* * *

_Chapter Six_

"I talked to his mother, Vincent."

"Did you? Fascinating, I didn't even know she lived there anymore!"

"Yeah, both his parents are still alive. They still live where he was brought up as a kid. It's a nice place, but not a nice neighborhood. Did you know he used to live in the Arkham district?"

Simone shook his head. "You have made a lot of discoveries, Bruce, was there anything else you found yesterday?"

He faltered, but then firmly made up his mind to present the mask to Simone. He had brought it in a package. "I found this on my doorstep this morning as I was about to step out and come over. I went back inside the manor to see what it was, and…" Bruce took the burlap sack out of the brown paper package.

Simone stared at it, shocked.

"Oh my _days_… I … never even thought that I would see _that_…"

"Amazing, isn't it? It's yours, if you'll pay me for it. I need to make sure the person who got it gets his due fees for finding it. I have a sneaky feeling it was…"

"Batman! Of course! He is supplying us with the other half. He has captured _both_ creatures…" he cleared his throat, "criminals. Sorry. I am … thank you." He shook Bruce's hand enthusiastically. "Treatment for Crane will be _so_ much easier with this. How much do you think he will want for it?"

Bruce paused for a minute, contemplating how much he could wean out of the Doctor. "At least twenty thousand dollars. You know Batman should get paid for what he does; this is a small errand for him, if you think about it. I would pay him for all the justice he brings to Gotham, but I would be bankrupt in a week." Bruce spurred the Doctor on with another of his winning smiles.

"Al-alright." Vincent remained a little speechless still. "I'll fetch my cheque book…"

Maniacal laughter was not the only thing that brought Vincent Simone to stand outside of Crane's cell. He exhaled slowly. He was not gathering his courage; he was suppressing his excitement. He had been waiting for this day for what had seemed like an _age_. Now the day had finally come, he was shaking with concealed emotions; a mixture of rage, jealousy, anxiousness and thrill.

He wanted more than anything to beat Crane's stupid smiling face.

The frenzied laughter came to an abrupt stop when Simone walked through the door. He locked it behind him; no one else could gain entrance while he dealt with this patient.

Crane sat curled up in one corner, partially hidden by the table and its two chairs. He faced the wall; his back was to Simone. Sometimes short, quiet peals of laughter escaped his lips, but apart from that he was silent. He knew that the Doctor was walking closer, advancing slowly, but there was nowhere else to go so he remained crouched against the wall, his arms wrapped around his legs protectively.

"Please… p-please…" he muttered. It was a half sob, half laugh, but it didn't stop Vincent from kicking him sharply in the ribs. He was not rewarded with any reaction from Crane, so Vincent grabbed him by his collar and flung him onto the floor away from the wall. He landed on his back, sliding a little on the greasy white linoleum.

"It's scum like _you_ who killed my mother…"

He aimed another vicious kick, this time at his shoulder.

"It's scum like _you_ who turned Gotham to shit…"

Again, he attacked Crane, but instead with an uppercut punch glancing off his chin.

"It's scum like _you_…"

Simone bent down to Crane's level. He was now backed against the wall again, his expression one of pure terror and fear.

"…who don't deserve second chances."

A short spurt of airborne liquid sprayed into Crane's face. Quickly Simone placed the burlap mask over his head. A deeper voice, not Simone's, overrode all sounds Crane could hear.

"No one can save you now, scum! Not mummy, not daddy… not _Scarecrow_!"

Jonathon looked up. That was _him_. It was… him, attacking him self. He crawled along the wall into the opposite corner to where he had been before. It wouldn't go away… _someone make it go away_…

Scarecrow aimed punches, blows and kicks repetitively at Crane.

The other inmates were kept up that night by the high-pitched screams and shrieks coming from cell 12.


	7. Chapter Seven

Scared, Scarecrow?

**BLURB**: - Set after Batman Begins. Jonathon Crane has been arrested finally for his crimes upon the people of Gotham. Batman has ordered him to be taken to the mad prison. What Wayne doesn't know is that Crane's going to receive some of his own medicine. NOTHING to do with the Joker in this. Because I can't be bothered. xD

**SHORT BLURB**: - Dr. Crane is captured and arrested, sent off to an asylum prison to receive some of his own medicine… Nolanverse

**DISCLAIMER**: - I do not own the Batman Universe, or Dr. Crane (; ;) or Cillian Murphy DX

**NOTE**: - Second to last chapter! Yes, nearly finished. It's not often that I finish a fic, but a word of advice to all budding writers – always plan. This fic is successful because I planned. Editing is also a must. If you don't edit, you will look back on it and think "Oh… my… god" because it will have been awful. XD anyway, the next chapter will be a kind of epilogue, so enjoy this one X

* * *

_Chapter Seven_

Dr. Simone had been using that particular therapy on Crane for a month now; it was proving effective. It worked better than the toxin by itself, and was miles superior than interrogation. Vincent had invited Bruce Wayne over to see the progress Crane had been making under the new remedy sessions he had been receiving. He would be here in around ten minutes.

Simone entered Crane's room, dragged him out by his hair and locked the door behind them before manhandling his patient down to one of the visitor's rooms. Here he would be bound in a straightjacket and Bruce would be able to talk with Crane without any interference. Not even Simone would be listening or watching what happened in the cell. No doubt Bruce would be able to handle himself; these rooms were high-security, sound proof with two guards stationed outside the door. He would be safe enough.

"He's through here." Vincent indicated a hand toward the unlit corridor leading to the door at the end. A single bulb hung loosely above it. Either side of the door stood, as promised, two guards wielding guns. Swallowing, Wayne nodded and shook the Doctor's hand.

"Thanks, I'll be about half an hour."

"He shouldn't try anything, but if he does, you should press the red alarm button by the door. It will give the guards access to the room and they'll deal with Crane while you get yourself out. But don't worry about that, it's unlikely to happen."

Bruce strode with purpose and presence down the corridor towards the illuminated door. He didn't look back or hesitate before pressing down on the handle and walking through to the visitor room.

Inside it was stark, white and clean. It contrasted harshly with the dark exterior to the room. Bruce's eyes hurt substantially and took a while to adjust, but when they did he noticed Crane sitting in the corner of the room emitting small sobs. He had expected him to be seated on the chair provided, smiling at him like any normal person.

So what was this all about?

Was it some kind of trick that Simone had set up for him? If it was, Bruce wasn't pleased. He paid yearly donations to the hospitals and medical facilities around Gotham, so he basically funded this whole place. If this was Simone's idea of a sick, twisted joke… what an ungrateful little snot he was.

Exhaling to calm himself Bruce walked to stand above Crane. He paused for a moment of thought then crouched down to the other man's level. He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and somehow Crane knew who it was, turning his head over his shoulder. Hair shrouded his face but from what Wayne could see his face was pale and drawn, one eye blackened, his lips dry and cracked. His glasses were askew on his face, one lens half broken, and the other cracked.

"They might have gotten rid of Scarecrow, but I'm certain they've given you something else…" Bruce whispered.

There were no questions that needed asking. He could quite plainly see that the way Crane still held himself away from even Bruce indicated that these were not self-inflicted injuries. He couldn't stand any more of this – he would have words with Simone.

He opened the door and instructed the guards to take Jonathon back to his asylum cell. Bruce himself stomped down the corridor to hunt down the Doctor. He wouldn't get away with this if it were the treatment he used for all of his patients.

The door to Vincent's office banged open. The paintings on the walls shook and almost fell from their hooks. Simone turned around, smiling at his visitor.

"Ah Bruce, how did it - ?"

"If I had known that you were using this hallucinogen in the same way Crane did, I would have stopped funding six years ago!"

"S-six years?"

"That is how long I've been supplying this asylum with donations, one large sum every year, and now I'm thinking that it wasn't such a clever investment. What are you, ungrateful? You don't seem to recognize, Vincent, that I have unlimited resources at my fingertips. One simple phone call can have you fired immediately and this institute shut down. How does _that_ make you feel?"

Whimpering, Simone retreated around his desk. "I-I'm sorry, Bruce… I-I'll stop the treatments right away… discharge Crane…"

"No. You won't. I am having you removed from this position."


	8. Epilogue

Scared, Scarecrow?

**BLURB**: - Set after Batman Begins. Jonathon Crane has been arrested finally for his crimes upon the people of Gotham. Batman has ordered him to be taken to the mad prison. What Wayne doesn't know is that Crane's going to receive some of his own medicine. NOTHING to do with the Joker in this. Because I can't be bothered. xD

**SHORT BLURB**: - Dr. Crane is captured and arrested, sent off to an asylum prison to receive some of his own medicine… Nolanverse

**DISCLAIMER**: - I do not own the Batman Universe, or Dr. Crane (; ;) or Cillian Murphy DX

**NOTE**: - Last chapter! I never thought that I would finish this; it's been three years in the making. I hadn't written any on it for about two years… shame on me. But now it is finished. I'm pretty sure I've let you all down a lot with this; it was going to be slash, but now it's not. I don't know… I just didn't fancy making it cliché like all the other fics out there. I wanted no romance in it. It's just a fiction about friendship, really.

This is the epilogue. Please make sure you R & R – I'd really like to know what you thought of the whole fic. It will stay up here forever, so don't worry about me taking it down. (: Enjoy. Originally the ending to this was going to have Bruce and Crane in a relationship, but instead the fic hasn't really given enough … opportunity for that to have developed completely and wholly, so I've left it out. Also, there was going to be a sequel, but I don't think that will happen now. Anyway. Thanks for reading. :)

* * *

_Epilogue_

It had been six months since Crane had been released from Sillforth Asylum. Simone had been discharged; the police now kept him under tabs. Bruce himself kept a watchful eye on him incase he ever turned to other forms of criminalizing Gotham. Overall though, he was one less person to worry about.

Jonathon seemed a much happier person; Bruce had offered him a job at Wayne Enterprises. He was almost part of the board. He knew how people worked, and therefore could easily detect a liar when he saw one sneaking about Wayne Enterprises. He was useful to have around; in fact most people at the company enjoyed his presence. Crane seemed to fit in here; big town business must have always been for him, but he had never truly found his niche due to bullies and suppression during his childhood.

Wayne understood him fully now. He was not a villain for Batman to fight; he was an ally for Bruce Wayne to keep by his side.

Batman was a crime fighter, but this half of the battle against the Scarecrow had been won by Bruce himself. And that made him all the more confident that he soon wouldn't need Batman all together. Batman was just a vessel for him to vent his fears and dark emotions into; Batman was another entity altogether. Bruce melted away when Batman was there.

He just didn't want the Dark Knight to consume him entirely.


End file.
